


Beaut and the Beast

by littlepeekaboo



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Beast!Jonny, Beauty and the Beast, Disney AU, M/M, Magic, Prince!Jonny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2018-11-12 19:40:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11168745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlepeekaboo/pseuds/littlepeekaboo
Summary: the Beauty and The Beast AU no one asked for!!





	1. Prologue

Once upon a time, in a far away land a young prince lived in a shining castle. Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish, and unkind. But then, one winter's night, an old beggar man came to the castle, and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by his haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift, and turned the old man away. But he warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. When he dismissed him again, the old male’s ugliness melted away, to reveal a handsome Enchanter. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for he had seen that there was no love in his heart. And as punishment, he transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there. Ashamed of his monstrous form, the beast concealed himself inside his castle, with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose he had offered, was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom for many years. If he could learn to love another, and earn his love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed, he fell into despair, and lost all hope, for who could ever learn to love a beast?


	2. The Beauty, The Brawn, and The Brains.

Patrick had always loved to read. 

His father said that, “The more you read, the stronger your mind was, and that was the most important thing.” and Patrick was no weakling.

Patrick practically devoured books. The only problem with that, was that in his little town, in his quiet village, there was one small bookshop and Patrick had read all of them. Twice. Some he had even read three times. But the romances, he had read over 4. He could recite some of them at this point. 

So yeah. Patrick has always loved to read. And the village hated it. While strolling past the baker with his tray like always, with the same old bread and rolls to sell, villagers would often talk about him and his books. When he arrived at Oshie’s Office TJ was just starting to open. He was cleaning the windows as Patrick walked in. 

“Ah if it isn't the only bookworm in town!” TJ greeted him with a smile. “Good morning, Pat. Where did you run off too this week?” 

“Two cities in Northern Italy. I didn't want to come back. Do you have any new places to go?” Pat asked eagerly, looking at the shelves.

“Not since yesterday!”

The young man frowned a bit, mainly at himself, and then grabbed his favorite book from the shelf. “That's alright, I’ll borrow this one.”

“That one? But you've read it so many times I’ve lost count,” He smiled at the small blonde, already reading the first page. “so if you like it all that much, it's yours.”

Patrick's head snapped up so quickly he got a bit dizzy. “But sir, I couldn't, it's yours, and others could read it. Pass the wealth of knowledge on.”

“Pat, you're the only one who ever comes in here. I insist.”

Pat couldn't help but to hug TJ. “Well thank you. Thank you very much.” 

A few moments later, as he was walking home he heard a familiar voice go, “Patrick!” 

He couldn't help but let out a groan. Of course, no new books and a side of Tyler to go with it. 

To everyone else in the village, Tyler Seguin was the best guy in town. Charming, handsome, you name it, he had it. He was wealthy, athletic, and even had a sweet sidekick named Jamie. Patrick felt bad for Jamie in fact. Jamie knew the best and worst about Tyler, and had been there for all of it, and had been pinning over his best friend since they were younger. 

When Tyler first came out, Jamie already knew it. But you could tell that he wanted it to be directed towards him, but Tyler's affection had always been at Patrick. And Pat hated it. To Patrick, Tyler was boring and brainless, and was in love with himself. Tyler loved the idea of Patrick, not Patrick himself. Also, Tyler had never picked up a book in his life, and that was the biggest problem of all. Don't get him wrong, he has eyes, and they can tell that Tyler Seguin was a beautiful man, in a dark and mysterious kind of way. He was tall, muscular but not overdoing it, and had brown eyes and brown hair and a kind smile when he was being genuine. He had his good qualities about him as well, but the bad out did the good.

“Tyler.” Pat said, knowing he sounded grumpy, and looked at Jamie with a smile to let Tyler knew he didn't have any interest in an asshole like him at all. “Jamie.”

“Hello Patrick! That's a beautiful book you have there!” Tyler said with a grin. 

“Have you read it?”

“Well, no, but books! Books in general are good. Right?” He said, a little worried at the end. As if Patrick could ever hate books. That's like hating dogs, you just don't do it. 

“Right. Nice to see you Jamie. Bye Tyler.” Pat said, walking away. 

“Wait Patrick! Wait up,” Tyler said, jogging to keep up with Pat as he tried to get home as soon as possible. He handed him a bouquet of lovely flowers, and stood in front of him and said with a grin, “for your dinner table. May I join you this evening?”

Patrick took the flowers and smiled while saying, “Thank you for these. They're lovely. However, no you will not be. It's a hard pass.”

“You know, one day I’m going to marry you. Just one of these days. You're going to be mine, Pat.” 

Pat didn't know how to put it gently. “I'm never going to marry you, Tyler. We could never make eachother happy.”

“I've changed!”

“No one can change that much. I'm never going to marry you, and I’m sorry. You’ll find someone for you that'll make you happy.” Pat couldn't help but to glance to Jamie, standing on the corner waiting for Tyler, while he said that. Tyler didn't notice, but did follow Patrick up the stairs of his house. 

“I love you Patrick.” Tyler said, and tugged on Patrick’s blue trousers.

Patrick stopped at that and turned around. The other man looked so genuine, but Patrick couldn't help but to laugh a bit even though he was angry. 

“You think you know what love is, Tyler? You think you know what it's like to long after something you can't have? Really?” He spat at the taller man. Even with being a couple steps up, they were eye level, and Pat could really get into his face. He pointed his finger on Tyler’s chest and continued his rant. “You don't know a single thing about love, Seguin. You don't know what it's like to want something, because everything gets handed to you and that's all you know. And you definitely don't know what it's like to long for someone or something, because you have the attention span of a flea.” 

As Tyler stood in disbelief of getting told no in such a manner, Patrick had just enough time to go inside. Once he got into the house, his father was seated at the table working on a music box which replicated their time in Paris.

Patrick hadn't known what happened to his mother. He knew her name was Colette Kane, and was a beautiful woman. His father was an artist and an inventor, and their was a painting of her and Patrick in Paris, before she passed. Patrick didn't know how she passed, he had never brought himself to ask, but he was interested in the little things about her instead. The things his father would tell.

She was slender, and had pale skin just like Patrick. She had short, wavy brown hair, compared to Patrick’s curly blonde hair. They both shared blue eyes, and a love for reading, and a last name. His father had changed Patrick’s last name, to keep something else of his Colette around. Her favorite flowers were roses and she was absolutely adored by his father, and he often showed up to their attic in Paris with bouquets of roses just to make her smile. Both of his parents were small, so Patrick was on the smaller side. He was slender like his mother, and had an athletic side to him but always loved reading more. He had a taste for adventure like his mother as well. 

They left Paris when Patrick was 8 months old. They ended up in the village, and haven't left since, except for the annual trips to the bigger market a few towns away, in which only Patrick’s father went.

“Pat, my boy, can you hand me-” 

“Here's the tweezers.” Patrick smiled, always knowing exactly what his dad needed when tinkering around. 

Patrick was just putting the flowers into a vase, and onto the window sill, when his father was packing up their cart for the trip. A few boxes of clocks, music boxes, and nik nak’s to sell at the market, and a bag of food that him and their trusty old horse Philippe could share. 

Once Patrick had tried to paint the back of the cart to say something catchy, but then he remembered that many people couldn't read after painting his father's name on it. Those people were missing out on the good things in life, but Patrick couldn't make them feel worse so now the cart just says ‘Joel Quenneville’.

“What can I bring you back from the trip?”

“A rose like the one in the painting of Mom.” Pat said, scratching Philippe on the head.

“You ask for that every year Patrick, don't you want something else? Even if it's a different kind of flower?” His father said, trying to see if perhaps his son would like a new book or something of the sort.

“You bring me back a rose every year. It's tradition.” 

“In that case, I shall bring you back a rose. Make sure you feed the chickens.” Joel said with a smile.

“I always do. I love you, stay safe.” Pat smiled back, raising up to hug his father.

“I'll see you tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow it is.” 

Once his father was off, Patrick had laid some seed down for his chickens and sighed at his previous encounter with the village bachelor, and thought out loud, “Could you believe that? Me as his little husband? I want more that this provincial life. I want adventure.”, but little did he know that adventure was surely coming his way.


	3. First Impressions

Patrick's father had taken this trip every year, Philippe even knows the way without being told, but never before had it felt so out of the ordinary.

The wind was chillier than it had been ever before, let alone for it just turning to dusk on a mid June day. From what he could see through the heavy foliage, the sky was turning a lovely orange with pinker undertones, with even a bit of purple starting to show. You could see all of the stars, and hear the soft summers wind blow through the leaves and also, a high pitched sound coming from the far east. 

Philippe came to a halt, almost sending the boxes flying, while Joel just said “Oh silly horse, it's nothing. Carry on.” 

The old horse started trotting along as the sound became closer and more distinct. The beautiful colors of the sunset had faded into the dark blue night sky, every star shining brightly, but it was still very dark out with how deep the pair were in the forest. 

However, Patrick’s father was pretty determined not to be afraid. He kept his horse of many years trotting along at a good speed, even when the horse would stop when the sound kept getting closer and closer, until finally, Joel could make out shapes right in front of them.

But it had been too late. The sound had turned out to be a complete pack of wolves. But not only wolves, hungry wolves. The leapt up at the horse and the old man, and one had even torn the leg of Joel’s trousers and drawn blood. Joel had snapped the reins, and shouted for the horse to run as fast as possible.

Between being so full on adrenaline and the blurriness of the trees all fading into dark walls on either side of them, Joel hadn’t noticed that they had taken a wrong pathway, only that they had lost the pack of wolves. Joel also noticed that it became colder, and was snowing. 

Deciding that he had enough on his mind, Joel failed to question the weather, and now the two were wandering at a steady but strong pace, and had ended up at the tall gates of a castle. The gates were thick, but opened easily as the pair walked through. As they opened, a beautifully giant courtyard leading to a magnificent castle appeared. Although it was run down, and the courtyard gardens were full of snow, Joel could tell that it was of grand construction.

As they walked to observe the details of their newly decided place of shelter (“Which was a lovely idea Philippe stop being a wuss, stop huffing at me.”), Joel could see that the sconces were ablaze, and that there was a small stable that had water and hay. He lead Philippe to replenish, and decided to greet the owners of the castle.

As he walked up to the doors of the castle, they had opened for him, but when he walked in no one had been there. 

“Perhaps it's just a gust of wind I didn't feel…” he thought out loud. There was a grand staircase at the very center of the room, leading up to the upper levels, and the main foyer was very large. There was a table to his left where a clock and a candelabra sat, and a coat rack which upon he placed his sweater he was wearing and started to wander around.

“Hello?” he called out, only to be answered back with complete silence. “Thank you for your hospitality.” 

He could have sworn he heard talking, but when he looked around all there was in this room was furniture. He walked to the small table, and lifted up the small clock on it and noticed how its construction was very alike to his own and couldn't help smiling. It was a beautiful design, and he was glad to know that someone else thought that the small style of clock was beautiful. 

The candelabra was not to disappoint of impressive qualities either. It was golden and had beautiful curves, and if you held it in the light the right way you could almost make out a face. 

After setting the two down, and wandering off to explore other parts of the castle, the candelabra let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding.

“A man of fine taste,” he quietly teased his best friend. “I like him.”

“Master is going to yell at us, Mitchell. I don't think now is the time for jokes.” 

The candelabra shook his head, and smiled at his friend with a soft tsk tsk. “Always so worried, Aus.”

As the strange man who had walked into the humble abode had walked from room to room the two had quieted down, and saw that he walked into the dining room.

As he walked in, there was a fully laid out set of diningware along with a hot full course meal, and he couldn't help himself. He sat down eagerly and places his napkin in his lap like the gentleman he is, before setting down to eat. As he was munching away on some bread, a cup of tea had been slid his way. He looked up to see who had been so thoughtful when a small voice came out and said, “Mother said not to move because I could frighten you. Sorry.” in the smallest voice ever. The tea cup had two eyes and a small smile, and the handle was supposed to be his nose, Joel guessed.

“That is quite alright but if you pardon me,” Joel said calmly before grabbing another roll of bread and hopping out of his seat, yelling out of fear. “I must be going!”

He ran out into the foyer, grabbed his sweater from the coat rack and yelled out, “Thank you for your hospitality!” 

As he ran out, Mitchell couldn't help but to turn to his companion and say, “I’d bet the last petals that it was Willy. That little tea cup has his name written all over this.”

As he ran down the steps, he called out his horses name and was soon jumping onto the back of him, rushing through the courtyard as he remembered one thing. He had promised his beloved son a rose. As he had remembered, they came upon a small rose garden just off the center of the courtyard. He jumped off his horse and tied Philippe’s reins to the archway and set off to find the perfect rose for his son. As he was searching, he heard the whine of a horse, and decided to ignore it. 

As soon as he set eyes on a gigantic white rose, he had plucked it and as soon as he had, he had seen why his horse had been whining. A gigantic creature had come out of nowhere and had startled the old man so much that he fell backwards onto the ground, and could only accept his fate from there. He couldn't manage to get away, for being in between a state of awe and disgust and fear, and also when he had gotten grabbed by the beast he had discovered that Philippe had ran away. The only thing there was to do now was hope for the best, but expect the worst.

Back in the village, a few hours later, Pat had heard the distinct whining of his family’s horse. He had ran outside, and expected to be met with his father, but only Philippe had been there and seemed to be in distress. He had been unattached from the cart full of boxes to sell, and had been gulping down the bowl of water they left outside for rain water. Pat had already started to assume the worst. 

Shortly after the horse had came, he was saddled and ready for another journey. Patrick had raced the horse to through the streets of the village, down the hills, and through the forest. It was still dark out, but the sun had began to rise so it was lightening with every passing minute. 

Once it became light enough, Pat stopped to see where that had been. He thought he had seen something reflect the light, and he had been right, he realized, as he'd walked up to a small box of shiny brass, it was the exact same music box his father had been working on a week before. 

Patrick snapped the reins and told Philippe to go as fast as he could to wherever his father had been taken to. As they raced down the path, it had decreased in temperature and snow had started to fall. After about 20 minutes, Patrick had arrived to a beautiful castle. He decided to overlook the beautiful architecture and keep his memories of stories about princes and princesses in beautiful castles just like the one before him, and replaced it with the thought of his father.

Pat slid off of his horse and ran up the tall steps, and didn't even bother to knock on the door. Whoever had decided to mess with his father was practically leaving to door open for a fight from Patrick, anyways. To his left, a lit candelabra had stood and he grabbed it as he moved to run up the giant staircase in the middle of the foyer.

“Papa! Where are you!” The young man called out. 

The only sound as a response was a distant coughing sound. Patrick had never before ran so fast up stairs before. 

“Papa! I'm coming!” He cried, taking the stairs two at a time. As he climbed the stairs, he realized they were getting narrower and more twisted with every step. The coughs grew louder and louder, and Pat had just realized he seemed to be in one of the towers that he could see from outside. 

As he raced up the steps even faster, he reached the final step and found his father in a giant cage, or something of the sort. It was a caged in room, at the very least.

“Patrick Timothy Kane!” His beloved father cried out, reaching through the holes of the fenced in area as much as he could. “You have to get out of here! The castle- the castle is alive! There's a giant beastly creat-” The older man was cut off by a loud roar coming from a shadowy area.

“Get out of here.” A thick accent had said, from which counted Patrick hadn't known.

“Let my father free.” Patrick had said, tightening his grip on his source of light.

“Your father is a thief,” The gruff voice had said. “So now, he stays here. Forever.” 

“All I did was pick a flower!” Joel had groaned.

“Don't punish my father, punish me! I’m the one who asked for a rose!” Patrick had insisted.

“Not going to happen, kiddo.” 

“Don't you think forever is a little rough? For a measly little rose?” Patrick had argued. The creature was still in hiding in the dark.

“I have to spend an entire damnation for one, therefore he only has until his last dying breath, which from the rate he's in, won’t be very long.” The last words of that had been what set Patrick off.

“How dare you insult my father like that, I’ll have you know he's a brilliant man that happened to be carried away for picking a flower, in the freezing cold, by a creature who's so cowardly he can't even show himself.” 

Not a breaths later, Patrick was almost chest to chest with an absolute horror. The man, at least that's what he thinks he is, was covered in hair and had gigantic paws. He didn't necessarily tower over Pat, but surely had quite the bit of height on him. He had dark brown fur and eyes that were almost black. He was intimidating to say the least, so the scream Pat had let out definitely wasn't from fear. No way. That would be ridiculous.

“You're- You're a-” Pat sputtered, trying to figure out the right thing to say to put it gently. Even if this creature had captured his father for a prisoner, Pat was raised on manners and knew that being rude wouldn't get him anywhere except for killed, maybe. 

“You're pathetic. Say your goodbyes before I change my mind and take both of you as prisoner. Once that door closes it shall never open again.”

“I need a moment alone with him.” Pat looked at his fathers tormentor with pleading eyes, hoping that this beast would give him some sort of sympathy.

Instead, he rolled his eyes.

“Forever can spare a minute. Are you too heartless to let a son kiss his father goodbye?” Patrick spat.

The beast looked as if he was deciding the answer to that before he had opened the door. Patrick immediately hugged his father. 

“I love you, mon fils. Please don't forget about me. Tell your mothers and I’s lovestory. Pass the wealth of knowledge.” His father had began to cry out, as Pat had moved them so that Joel was closest to the door.

“I’ll try my best, but it might be hard while I try escape.” Pat had said, pushing his father out of the door and closing it soon after. 

The beast came running to the door and said, “You took his place.”

“He's my father.”

“Well he's a goddamn fool and so are you.” The beast had said simply. He grabbed Joel and strung him over his shoulder, and walked down the long winding steps ahead of them. 

The last memory he has before falling asleep is the tears rushing down his face and the sound of his fathers coughing and protests. He couldn't help but wonder what his fate had in store for him, and hated the fact that that overgrown house cat had all the say in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was actually pretty difficult to figure out and write, and i'm not 100% in love with it, but i appreciate all of the feedback!


	4. Second Impressions Aren't any Better

Pat was woken up by a soft grunting. He lifted his head from the makeshift pillow of his arms, and realized he had a slight headache. He heard the slight groan of the metal door opening and jumped up to his feet. 

“Who's there?” He called out. 

“My name is Mitch!” Said a strong accent. All Patrick could see was a shadow on the ground, and he hesitantly moved to the doorway. All he could see when he looked out into the hallway was the candelabra. 

Who had turned around and said, “Hello there! Don't be shy, we're going to get you to your room.” 

Patrick almost fell over. He grabbed onto the wall to keep himself stable, and stared at the golden object. 

“You're talking.” Pat noted. How strong of a headache did he have? Was he even awake?

At that moment the little clock was climbing up the top step and mumbled, “Get used to it. It's all he ever does.”

“That's Auston. Don't be alarmed, we're just trying to help you.” Mitch said, hopping his way over. “Now let us lead you to your room.”

“My room?” Pat thought out loud. “What happened to the whole, forever stuck here, once that door closed it never opened again thing?” 

“People say a lot of things when they're angry. Please forgive that first impression. Now, your room is in the east wing and you're allowed to go anywhere in the castle you'd like.” The candelabra said, start to walk away, prompting for the two to follow.

“Except for the west wing!” Auston yelled behind Pat.

“What's it the west wing?” 

“Nothing! We don't have a west wing. He's just talking about the empty room on the ground floor on the western side of the castle. It's storage space.” Mitch said quickly, giving his companion a death glare. Auston nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. Storage space.”

A few moments later they were standing in front of two very large doors. As Mitch opened them he announced, “Welcome to where you will be staying with us. It's modest, but comfortable.”

If the definition of modest was a baby blue from floor to ceiling with gold detailing of leaves and flowers on every wall, with what seemed to be solid gold vines hanging down from the ceiling, and not to mention the sheer size of this room, then Mitch hit it right on the nose.

The room itself was the size of Patrick's house, plus the entire bookshop. There was a gigantic bed in the center pushed up against the wall, with flowing yellow curtains draping down. A giant wardrobe sat in the corner, along with a gigantic vanity. A beautiful chandelier was hanging from the ceiling, gold and geode filled, and refracting the light it let off but not in an overbearing fashion.

Patrick nearly cried at the sight. 

“Is everything alive here?” Pat asked, walking to the vanity. He picked up a hair brush and said ever so sweetly, “Hello, it's very nice to meet you. What's your name?”

Mitch and Auston laughed. 

Auston said, in a very nice tone, “That's just a hair brush. However,” but was cut off by the wardrobe singing loud and proud.

“You've finally brought me someone to dress!” The wardrobe said happily while grabbing Pat’s face. “Oh and what a handsome boy! Strong, proud face, a boyish yet mature appearance! When's the wedding!”

All Pat could do was go “uh.”

“Sir Sharp, this is,” Mitch prompting, realizing he hadn't asked their visitors name. 

“Patrick. Patrick Timothy Kane.” Pat said proudly.

“This is Patrick. He’ll be staying here for a while. Please don't put him up in a dress.” Mitch finished.

“What if I like dresses?” Pat grinned, feeling easy with Mitch and Auston, given the circumstances. Pat had never had many friends, and by many he means none. It had always been him and his father, and it felt nice to know at least two people, er, objects, were looking out for him. Even if it was because he was trapped.

“Then all the power to you, then.” Auston said with a smile. “I know it must be very difficult for you right now, so we would like you to do whatever makes you feel most comfortable, and if that's dressing up in a big purple dress with matching purple bows in your hair, then that's fine by us.”

“What he said.” Mitch said as a feather duster flew into the room.

“Mon chéri!” The duster squealed. 

“My beautiful darling, how lovely you look this evening.” Mitch said, seeming more put together than he had within these last few minutes.

As the couple finished exchanging pleasantries, and the duster who he had soon learned the name Stephanie had cleaned his room up, Patrick felt as if perhaps things wouldn't be terrible. For all he knew, there was a possibility he hadn't even had to see the over grown house cat ever again. He could stay in here. He could probably even ask for books.

Downstairs in the dining room, the Beast had see that there was two dining sets on the table.

“Mitchell!” he roared, walking into the kitchen. 

“It was all his idea!” Auston said. 

“You're feeding him dinner? And giving him a room?”

“Well we already gave him a room.” Mitch said calmly. “It wouldn't be bad to have company for dinner. The rose isn't gaining any petals, and you have a lovely boy here. Who knows what could happen.”

The next thing the Beast knew, he was set outside Patrick’s room with what seemed to be his entire staff behind him. Auston, Mitchell, and Mr. Martin were there. Even Willy. 

He pounded on the door and said simply, “Join me for dinner.” 

There wasn't a response.

“Take it easy on him, Jonathan.” Mr. Martin said. “He just lost his father and his freedom in one day. You're never going to get a husband with that attitude.”

“Alright, alright.” The Beast sighed. He knocked quietly and said, “Please join me for dinner, if you would like.”

“If I would like?” He heard from the inside. “You keep me captive and now you're asking to have dinner with me? Yeah, right.”

“Fine!” Jonathan yelled. “If he doesn't eat with me, he doesn't eat at all!” He roared at his staff, walking away.

A bit later, Pat was sitting on the floor with his knees tucked up, leaning his chin on them. He was folded in on himself, but he couldn't help it. He missed his father, and his village, and his freedom. There was a small knock on the door, just as he was wallowing in self pity.

“I already told you no. Go away.”

“It's Mr. Martin dear, he's not here.” A small voice had said. Pat didn't know who that was, but he mumbled to come in anyways.

A small cart with a tea pot and a small cup had rolled over to him. 

“Aren't you a sight for sore eyes.” The tea pot said with a smile. “Ive found that even the worst of situations feel a little better with tea.” 

With that being said, the small tea cup floated over to pat where he sat. His father yelled at him to be careful and not to spill, and Pat held the bottom plate carefully. 

“Hello.” Pat greeted the small cup. 

“Hi, my name is Willy. Want to see me do a trick?” The cup responded, a promptly blew a bubble of tea. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“Pretty cool indeed.” Pat agreed before taking a sip of tea. The three had chatted for a while before Mr. Martin said that he'd be back up with something to eat, and that he would see Pat in the morning and bid him a goodnight. Pat agreed, and said that he'd be in his room if he happened to need him for anything. 

But, his curiosity had gotten the best of him. He couldn't help himself, okay? He wandered out of his room and set out to find out what the ‘west wing’ really was. 

When he arrived to what he figured was ‘storage space’, it ended up being what he guessed was his kidnappers bedroom.

There was a large painting on the wall, a portrait of a man with dark brown hair and brown-black eyes to match. He had a serious look to him, but it was more determined than the rest of the ‘serious’ looks portraits Pat had seen had. He had a strong jaw, and a bit of a beard, like he hadn't shaved in a bit. He was also gorgeous, the type of gorgeous who made Pat remember why he was gay. 

But whoever that man was, or had been, the overgrown house cat didn't enjoy him very much. The portrait had 3 sets of claw marks at various places on it. 

As Pat walked further into the room, he had learned many things about the Beast. He slept on the right side of the bed only, and always got undressed on the left, either that or threw his clothing on the left side. Although it was a pile, it wasn't as messy as it could have been. 

Pat walked out to the balcony, and on a table in the middle sat a floating red rose with not too many petals left, and was covered in a glass dome. He shrugged it off and turned to look at the sunset instead. 

A few moments later, there was a loud thud and the ground had shook under Patrick's feet. The next thing he knew, he was getting roared at and screamed at by a very angry Beast. 

“What did you do to it?” He demanded, looking at the rose. “Tell me!”

“I didn't do anything to it.” Pat sputtered while shaking. The Beast must have saw him shaking or took a bit of sympathy on him, and calmed down a bit.

“Get out of here right now.” The Beast said eerily calm.

Pat ran out of the room, and didn't look back.


	5. Third Times a Charm?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i'm not quite sure about the ending for this, and i know it took a while for it to even get here, but here it is!! thank you for all the great feedback!! 

Pat was racing down the castle steps, taking two, three, at a time. He needed to get out of there, and fast. He ran into the stables, physically hopped onto his family’s trusty horse, and snapped the reins while he could hear his name and the word ‘stop’ being yelled after him. 

It had been snowing, and that should have slowed the pair down, but Pat was so filled on adrenaline that he kept snapping the reins, wanting to go as fast as they could.

The snow, however, had ended up slowing them down as soon as Pat realized he made a wrong turn somewhere as Philippe had started sliding on what seemed to be a frozen over lake. If that wasn't enough of a hassle, there was a pack of angry grey wolves surrounding them.

Patrick was frozen with fear, he hadn't known what to do. He had never dealt with wolves before, but had heard multiple stories of bad encounters with them, and had knew to be fearful of them.

His gut instinct to be afraid was correct as they started leaping up at every angle to attack him and Philippe. Philippe had reared up off of the ground, causing Patrick to fall onto the ice. He had run off with part of the pack of wolves following, while the others had stayed to finish him off. He slowly slid backwards on the ice, trying to get away, but his back soon hit against a rock. 

He put his hands in front of him, hoping that that would brace was was going to happen next, but he never imagined that as a wolf leapt at him, the Beast jumped in front of Patrick.

Pat scrambled to his feet and found a stick, whacking the overgrown lap dogs when they got too close. He was making his way over to the Beast, as one lunged up and bit him in the shoulder. He cried out in pain and fell to the ground, but there were only a few left that Pat had managed to fight off enough with his stick. Pat hit a few of them, hard enough to get the running away but not enough to do permanent damage. 

After a few minutes, all of the wolves were gone, and Pat rushed to the Beast’s side. 

From what he could see, it wasn't terrible. It was just a wound that would need a bit to heal, but not life threatening.

“You've got to help me help you,” Pat whispered, taking the Beast's paws into his hands. “Can you stand up for me?” 

The Beast grunted while he did so, but soon enough they were making their way back to the castle. As the walked up the stairs, Pat realized his arm hadn't left the Beast’s although he protested he could do it on his own.

A few hours later, Pat still hadn't let go of his arm. They were sitting in the Beasts bed, and Pat had just finished wrapping his shoulder up.

“I’m fine, Patrick.” He said. 

“That's exactly what someone who wasn't fine would say.”

“Are you always this bratty?” The Beast said.

“Only for people who yell at me about looking at sunsets and accuse me of false accusations.” Pat muttered, making sure the bandages were good enough. He had been right, the bites were bad, but not terrible. It would take a few weeks to heal, but it would heal fine.

“Touché.” The Beast sighed. 

“What's your name.” Patrick stated, rather than asked, because he hated calling him The Beast in his head. He hadn't known where his sympathy had come from, perhaps it was from being raised properly or the fact that this creature in front of him had risked his life for him. Perhaps it was both.

He stared at him as if Pat was joking. Once he realized he was serious, he lifted himself into a sitting position where Pat could still hold his arm and it not be uncomfortable. After a few moments, he spoke.

“Jonathan. My name is Jonathan.” 

“Jonathan.” Pat repeated, seeing how it felt on his tongue. 

“But, I prefer Jonny.” He said with a small smile, warm and inviting, despite the fangs. Pat smiled back.

“Pat. My name is Pat.” He said, slighting teasing the other man. “My real name is Patrick, but I sort of like Pat better.”

“Patrick.” Jonny had said, testing it out like Patrick had done. They sat in a not entirely comfortable, but not exactly uncomfortable silence for a bit before Pat had broken it. His legs were tucked under his chin again, and he was looking down at the blanket he was on top of instead of looking Jonny in the eyes.

“I'm sorry for running off.” He whispered, almost so quietly Jonathan wasn't sure if he heard him correctly.

“I'm surprised you hadn't run off earlier with all the freedom Mitchell has granted you.”

Jon had watched Pat bring his legs closer to himself if that was even possible, and fold in onto himself.

“I'm-” Jon had started, looking at Pat and taking him in. “Patrick please look at me.” 

Patrick hesitantly looked up, meeting his gaze, and his face was entirely blank. 

“I shouldn't had been so hard on you earlier. That rose is just much more important than it would seem.” Jonny started to explain. “A while back, I was selfish and unkind. I only thought of myself when I was Prince Jonathan-”

“Wait you're a prince?” Pat asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don't know anymore.” Jon answered truthfully. When Pat had asked what he meant, Jonathan had explained how his mother had passed, how his father was almost never around and found out his death a month after it happened, and how he eventually gained power at eleven years old. How it had been about a decade since he was cursed and what had happened since. Patrick listened intently, asking questions or nodded along, and still hadn't let go of Jonathan's arm. Once he was finished explaining the castle and how his staff had been turned into talking dining ware and such, Pat sat quietly before asking the final question.

“What happens when the last petal falls?”

“We stay as we are forever.” Jonathan said looking down.

“And how do you break it? The curse, as in?” Pat asked, for Jonny hadn't explained that part fully.

“I have to fall in love, and have them also fall in love with me. But no one loves a Beast, so we're all counting the days.” He said slowly. He didn't exactly sound upset about it, just stressed.

“Do you miss it? Being a prince?”

“I miss being human more than anything. The power was confusing at such a young age, and now I know that I truly was a terrible person to the villagers such as yourself.” Jon said, taking interest in the bedding they were on top of.

Pat just nodded, and they sat in silence once again until Pat yawned.

Jon looked over at the clock and saw that it had been after midnight already. “You should get to bed. It's been a long day.”

“You're right,” Patrick agreed. He stood up and hesitated for a moment, before running his hand down Jonathan's arm and walking across the room to the doors. “night, Jonny.”

“Good night Patrick.” Pat heard as he walked away and to his room.

Patrick fell asleep to thoughts about how he went from hating the creature who he was currently living with, to taking a liking to the guy and wondering if they could be friends.

Jonathan fell asleep to thoughts about how Patrick hadn’t shuttered at his paw, and looked at him intently like he cared. It was the first time in a very very long time.

However, back in the village, Joel had run into the nearest establishment in which had been the pub. Everyone was singing and dancing, enjoying the summer's night, when a frantic Joel stumbled in.

“Help! It's my son,” Joel started, which had a man whom he didn't know the name of look curiously at him. “He's been kidnapped! By a Beast! In a castle where everything's alive and he's in immaculate danger and-”

Joel was cut off by the sound of laughter. Everyone was laughing except for the man looking at him. He soon spoke up.

“Now, now, everyone, there's no reason to laugh. Obviously something has happened to our dear Patrick.” He said with a smile. “Lead the way to the castle.”

“Uh, Tyler,” a man at his side had said. Surely this man helping him couldn't be the Tyler Pat hated. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

Tyler whipped around and whispered something to his side kick which had him say out loud, “Oh! A good plan, Tyler, a good plan indeed.”

“Cmon now we haven't got all week.” Joel said, walking out the doors. “It's a long trip and who knows what Pat has gotten himself into.”


	6. Are we making jokes now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS TOOK FOREVER BUT ITS HERE

It turns out, Patrick had gotten himself into quite the enjoyable situation.

The following morning, Patrick had found himself having a delightful breakfast, and had a nice conversation with Willy. The little tea cup was very funny, Pat thought.

Shortly after he finished up, he had gotten bathed in a beautiful tub full of warm, bubbly water which Patrick had almost fallen back to sleep in because it was so nice. The water smelled like roses, and after he had gotten dressed he realized his skin had as well. 

Shortly after that, Jonathan had knocked on his door and asked if he would like to take a walk around the castle together. Patrick agreed, and Jonathan just smiled.

As they walked, Jonathan was looking at the doors before going, “Ah. I think we should stop here.”

Before he could ask why, Jonathan opened the door and in they walked into a massive library.

Patrick was at a loss of words, and looked around while grinning, before looking at Jon.

“How did you know I would have enjoyed this?” He asked.

“Willy can't keep his mouth shut…” Jonny said, looking down at his feet bashfully.

“I love it.” Patrick said, walking over to where the other person was standing. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Jon said back easily, with a sweet smile. 

After Patrick had grabbed a few titles and settled down onto a comfortable chair in one of the rooms of the library, he asked Jon if he had read every book.

“Well not all of them.” He said with a pause. “Some of them are in Greek.”

“Was that a joke? Are we making jokes now?” Patrick laughed, settling back into his chair. He was quite content with sitting in the library in a comfortable silence.

However, Tyler was not comfortable sitting in his family's cart for merchants while listening to Joel go on and on about the Beast. He couldn't take this nonsense anymore.

“This is infuriating!” He yelled. “Give it up, Joel. There is no Beast!” 

“Of course there is! He has my son!” Joel yelled back. “Why’d you even offer to help if you don't believe it?”

“Because I want to marry your son!” Tyler snapped. “And I’m going to marry your son, I just need to know where the hell he is!”

“That's rich, Seguin.” Joel laughed. “You're never going to marry my son. Never. He loathes you.”

After saying that, the only thing Joel remembers is seeing Tyler's fist near his face, and then everything was black.

Back at the castle, Patrick and Jon were getting along great. Pat was currently lost in thought while sitting in the library, stretched out on a chair, watching Jonathan read.

He was starting to see something that hadn't been there before.

“He was mean, and coarse, and unrefined, but now he's dear and so unsure…” Pat thought. “It's sweet and almost kind.” 

Little did he know, Jon was having the same thoughts about Patrick. 

“He glanced this way? Did I see that correctly? And when we touched, he didn't shudder at my paw.” He thought but then shook his head lightly. “No.. It can't be. I’ll just ignore it. But then again, he’s never looked at me that way before.”

The pair were both lost in thought about each other, stealing glances now and again, although the other one didn't know. 

They were sitting in a comfortable silence until Jonathan spoke up. 

“Patrick? May I ask you a question?”

Pat stretched out, shaking his limbs out and nodded. 

“Well, I told you about my past, may I learn something about yours?”

Patrick looked over, and didn't think that he was serious. But when he looked at Jon, his face was so sincere. He was interested in learning about Patrick. He wanted to know more about Patrick.

“Oh, um, what's there to tell, really?” He started off with. 

He went on about his father and his mother, and how they lived in Paris for a while, but something had happened to Patrick’s mother. Patrick hadn't known what, it was always what he couldn't ask. He talked about the village, and Tyler, and how Jamie was in love with Tyler. They talked about how Patrick wanted to teach kids, and how he was sure he couldn't marry someone he didn't love, even for money. It was just something he couldn't do.

“So Jamie's in love with Tyler?”

“Yeah. It's been that way since, well, forever. Jamie looks past his flaws because he knows the good he has.” Patrick said with a sigh. “He's not a terrible person. He's just… cocky. And selfish. And self absorbed. And I’m just uninterested in those qualities.”

“What qualities are you interested in?” Jon asked before he could stop himself.

Patrick stayed quiet, for he was taking that question into consideration. What was he interested in?

“I’m sorry if that was too personal, or if you don't want to discuss that with me or-” Jon was cut off by Patrick putting a finger up.

“Shhh. I'm thinking.”

Jon let out a breath of relief at that. Patrick was thinking about what he was interested in, and whatever he said, Jon wanted to be it. 

Patrick thought about the portrait in Jon’s bedroom of, well, Jon. If they were under different circumstances, Patrick could see how he could learn to love Jon. He was nowhere near as much of a monster as Tyler’s personality was half the time, and he was covered in fur and had claws. That said something.

It felt like forever to Jonathan before Patrick answered, “Tall, dark, and handsome. And someone who could read nearly every book in here, but with an exception because some of them are in Greek.”

Jonathan’s heart almost burst with how happy he was.


	7. punch lines and callbacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Let's have a ball then.” Patrick said. “It would be a shame not to put this room to use.”
> 
> “You're right.” Jonathan said after a few moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so all 3 story lines are in this chapter and it was originally 2 different chapters because i was going to do a double update but i became uninspired. I hope this lives up to the hype.

The next thing Joel remembers is waking up in a strangers den. He hadn't known how he'd arrived here, or if he was even welcome, or why he was here. There was a figure stirring at a pot a few feet in front of him and as he lifted himself up into a sitting position, his head felt like a tornado. Whirring and painful.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” The figure said with a sweet, caring voice. “You got punched pretty hard.”

“Punched?” Joel asked with a cough.

“Hard enough to knock you out for a few days. Two, actually.” Joel couldn't believe it, and was handed a cup of a purple liquid. “You're probably dehydrated. Drink this, you'll feel better.”

It tasted like flowers smell, and had a nice aftertaste. When he looked up, it was a soft looking man. 

“Who are you?”

“Your savior, at this point.” He replied.

 

Jonathan couldn't believe his ears. Patrick would give him a chance. PATRICK WOULD GIVE HIM A CHANCE.

“That's, uh, good.” He choked out. He was almost crying.

“What are you interested in?” Patrick asked. He wasn't that far away from Jon, and could tell that he was happy, and almost relieved. He almost sounded like he was going to cry, but hopefully in the good way.

“Someone to make me happy.” Jonathan said, looking at Pat with a smile. 

An hour or two later, the pair went back to exploring the castle. As they stopped in the largest ballroom the palace had to offer, Patrick asked when was the last time Jonathan had danced.

“It's been a while.” He replied, thinking back on it. “But I don't think I could forget how to. I used to be outstanding at it.”

“Let's have a ball then.” Patrick said. “It would be a shame not to put this room to use.”

“You're right.” Jonathan said after a few moments.

“We don't actually have to,” The blonde started, but Jon just shook his head in response.

“Is 6 okay? It’s 3 now, so uh, is 6 okay? We can have dinner afterwards? Together?”

“I’d like that very much.” Patrick said, trying to hide how excited he was.

Not too long after the time was set, the staff had been told, and Patrick was in his room getting dressed in front of the wardrobe, Sir Sharp.

Sharp had dressed Patrick in a three piece suit, yellow and white in color, and brown boots.

The accents on the jacket were flowery and golden, and Patrick styled his hair back so that it was flowing and curly, but tamed. When he stepped back and looked into the mirror, he smiled at his reflection.

Jon had Martin in his room and was stressing out over the dance.

“What if he doesn't like what I wear? Or reconsiders? What if he wasn't even serious?” Jonathan groaned, flopping on his mattress and putting an arm over his face. 

“We only have an hour before you need to get down there so get up you big baby.”

“Don't wanna.” Jon pouted. However, he did get up, and dressed himself in a yellow and blue three piece suit with white details. He combed back his fur and even braided it, and attached a blue bow at the end. He felt better than he had in years.

However, when we saw Patrick, that all went out the window. Patrick looked absolutely stunning. He looked beautiful in yellow, Jonathan though. However the staff got the both of them to dress in yellow was beyond Jon. They were matching and almost looked like a couple. Certainly if Jon let himself indulge on that thought for an hour, nothing bad would happen, right?

Patrick, on the other hand, was stunned about how handsome Jonathan looked. Blue was definitely his color. The details on his suit were impeccable, as was his hair, er, fur. He was glowing, and looked almost proud as he stared at Patrick. Patrick’s heart skipped a beat.

He didn't let it show, however. He put his arm out and grinned goofily, and went “May I have this dance, your highness?” which made Jonathan groan and shake his head, and then start laughing.

Jon grabbed his arm and spinned him under his arm, and pulled Patrick close to him. “Only if you never call me Your Highness again.”

“Deal.” 

And so they went to the ballroom and danced. And danced. And danced. At first, it wasn't close. They gave each other space. As time went on though, they pushed closer and closer to each other. Now, Patrick’s head was on Jonathan’s chest, and Jonathan’s arms were around Patrick and they were more just shuffling their feet and swaying, than anything else. Patrick could feel, and hear, how fast Jonathan’s heart rate was, and when he looked up at Jon, how it skipped and slowed. 

Jonathan looked down at Patrick, and looked as if he was nervous.

“What are you thinking about?” Pat whispered.

“How much I don't want to mess this up.” Jon said, as he dipped him. One way or another, Patrick leaned up and brushed his lips against Jonathan’s. 

He almost dropped Patrick.

 

Tyler was back in the village, ranting as Jamie rubbed his shoulders.

“I'm never going to have a chance with Patrick! Why doesn't he see that I could make him happy?”

“Some people are blind to others feeling.” Jamie said quietly.

“I've made myself very clear.” Tyler said grumpily. “He's the prettiest and that makes him the best, and do I not deserve anything but the best?”

Jamie didn't say anything back. 

Tyler shrugged him off and sighed. “Where could he be? I oughtta go down to that damn ‘castle’ and see if he's actually there. Bring the whole village with their pitchforks and torches to kill the Beast. Have a parade.” He said with a laugh.

As time went on, however, he started thinking that that might not be a terrible idea after all.


	8. Complementary Colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few heart rate increasing activities....
> 
> That took so so long to put together. I’m so sorry.

After the library, it had been announced that the pair should get dressed for the evening. Mitch had told Pat while he was getting ready that they were going to dance and have dinner, and Pat was very excited. With new found feelings, he was ready to explore them. 

He ended up getting dressed in a pair of white pants with a light yellow suit jacket and navy button up that really made his eyes pop. His hair was tamed and fell beautifully around his face, rather than all over the place and very kid like. He looked mature, rather than childish. He even had a little bit of mascara on to really make his eyes be a focus point. Jon soon found out he couldn’t decide which look he liked more.

Jon was dressed in an all navy suit with yellow detailing. His fur was pulled back even, with a yellow bow. The pair looked just like that, a pair. 

They met at the grand staircase and walked together to the ballroom.

And out of nowhere, music started playing.

So they danced. And they danced. And they danced.

After a while, after they got tired out, and their heart rates were mostly back to normal, Mr. Martin had announced that it was time to eat. 

They walked hand in hand to the large dining room, and sat in their seats at opposite ends of the long table. Jonathan walked Patrick to his and slid in and out his chair for him, and kept his eyes on Patrick while the courses came.

He looked at him with such loving eyes throughout the night, and Patrick couldn't help but to smile. He was truly having a great time here.

He never expected these feelings to come about. Not for a creature like he thought Jonathan was. He let out a small laugh about how just a few days ago he was terrified of this man, and now here he is wondering if he could be falling in love with him.

When Jonathan looked at Patrick, for the 100th time that night, he seemed to have a sort of hunger in his eyes.

He sipped on his water and then flicked his eyes at Jon before asking, “Would you maybe want to hang out longer after dinner? Do some other… high heart rate activities?”

Jonathan almost choked on his tea.

Was Patrick offering what he thought he was? 

“Uh, sure,” Jonathan said simply, blushing a looking down at his dessert.

When they arrived in Jonathan’s room a short time after and got comfortable on his bed, Patrick scooted in closer to Jon so that his head was on his shoulder.

“Patrick, I-” Jonathan started but was cut off by Patrick kissing him. 

It started off slow, a bit of a question in the air, but soon there were no questions. It was a battle of give and take, push and pull. Patrick sat himself in Jonathan’s lap, and really went at it.

He sucked lightly on Jon’s tongue and explored his mouth with his tongue, and Jon just sat there and tried not to short circuit and tried to follow his blonde boy’s lead. 

After a few minutes, Jonathan finally came to his senses. As he started to explore Patrick's mouth with his tongue, Patrick started to make these soft noises from the back of his throats which made Jonathan want to work better at kissing him. 

“Get this off,” Pat panted, pulling at Jonathan’s suit jacket. He pulled it off, along with Jon’s layers and started kissing lightly down his torso. Even though the fur tickled his nose, he was full of smiles. Jonathan was truly something spectacular.

As he freed Patrick from his own jacket and other layers, he stared excitedly at the broad expanse of soft pale skin he could now touch.

He roamed his hands all over Patrick, careful of his claws, and softly laid kisses down his neck. He sucked as lightly as he could on the skin, nibbling a bit, careful of his teeth, just enough to make a slight mark.

He quickly learned the smaller man loved having his ass grabbed and nipples played with, if the noises coming from him were anything to go by.

When Jonathan rolled the little nub between the pads of his thumb and forefinger, the blonde male made a beautiful little sigh.

“You don't know how beautiful you look, Patrick.” Jon said with a smile.

Patrick looked too blissed out to give a reply, so Jonathan kissed him with everything he had. As the two tried to free the other of their remaining clothing, they only became hungrier for each other. 

 

He grinded his hips into Jonathan, and groaned at the pressure. He wrapped his legs around the bigger man, and breathed in how nice he smelled. 

“I,” Patrick said, a bit out of breath, while alternating with sucking on Jon’s neck like the little heathen he is. “want to ride you.”

This little scoundrel was going to make Jonathan burst.

“I-” Jon choked out.

“If you're alright with it of course,” Patrick stumbled out, starting to create some space incase he read the situation wrong.

Jon nodded quickly before swallowing all the sudden saliva that gathered in his mouth with an audible click of his throat. “I want you in the worst ways, Patrick.”

His already dark eyes grew black, full of lust and want. 

As soon as they stripped out of their clothes, the smaller male was right back onto his lover's lap, softly grinding into him.

“You're gonna get stubble burn,” Jonny warned but Patrick just kept it up. 

“Don't care,” Pat said. 

All Jon had to offer was a soft, tsk tsk, and held out two fingers. 

“Suck.” He said and Patrick happily complied.

Once his fingers were wet enough, he slid his fingers down and circled around Patrick’s hole. He shivered lightly, and Jon kissed his neck while sliding a finger in. 

Patrick greedily rode back onto it.

“Eager?” Jon teased.

“I might have done a little prep earlier…” Pat said. 

Jon could imagine it.

Patrick laying out on his bed, shoving two fingers into himself. Getting himself dirty while thinking about Jonny.

Jonathan got hard pretty quickly while thinking about it. 

He was pretty average in length, but pretty thick. Just like the rest of his body. He slid two more fingers in next, and made sure to open Pat up nicely. 

Patrick was a moaning mess, taking all Jon would give him and wanting more. He kissed his lover hungrily while rocking back onto his fingers.

“I want you,” He said. “No more prep. Fuck me, Jonathan.”

And so Jonathan obliged.

He was still in his boxers, but at this point nothing was left to Patrick’s imagination.

“Get these off.” Pat whined, pulling at the navy fabric.

“Needy?” Jon smiled, but Patrick could tell that he was a little nervous.

He stopped his lover while he was finally getting his boxers off and looked him in the eyes. “Listen. I want this. I’m okay. Even if it hurts a little. Just try not to, like, claw me to death.” 

Jon smiled and nodded, and Pat could see a weight practically lift off of his shoulders, as he slid the last piece of clothing off.

And, uh, Pat was excited.

Very, excited.

He was practically drooling. The irony, right?

Jon smiled and pulled him back onto his lap. He stroked himself a few times, before sliding into Patrick.

Patrick moaned, and Jon practically growled, which for some reason went straight to Pats dick.

Pat started slowly rising up and down before he found himself a nice rhythm which hit all the right places, for the both of them if the little whimpers coming from the actual beast under him were anything to go by.

Patrick’s legs are on either side of Jon’s gigantic thighs, and he's practically being caged in by his arms. He feels safe, and happy, and overall oh so, so good. 

This becomes also a game of push and pull, the right amount of pain to push into pleasure, as Jon’s nails scrape the smaller man’s sensitive skin. 

Patrick’s whimpering, and Jon starts to kiss every inch of his neck and whisper how beautiful he is, and how nice he feels.

This isn’t just sex, and that’s obvious. This is strictly making love, with a few dirty words combined.

It feels magical.

Jon reaches up to tug on Patrick’s nipples and that seemed to really do the trick. He soon became a whimpering mess under Jon’s touch, and soon was coming all over the both of them. Jon moved one of his hands down to stroke Pat through it, as he kisses on his neck and softly scrapes his sharp teeth on the fragile skin.

Pat sits still in Jonny’s lap for a moment, breathing heavily, before he whispers “Wanna suck you off.”

Jonathan almost cums from that.

He slides off of Jon slowly, before spreading his legs apart and laying in between his lover. He gets a hand on him, and starts bobbing his head up and down and putting his tongue to work while maintaining eye contact, and it’s over way too quickly.

“Fuck.” Jonathan curses when he finishes, and repeats it as Patrick pulls off. When Pat gets up to grab a wet cloth to clean them up, Jon notes that he has a bit of a limp, which makes him smirk like the cocky bastard he is.

Once they’re cleaned up, Pat lays on Jon’s chest with his hand over his gentle giant’s heart. Jonathan kisses his forehead, and they fall asleep together in peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm still working some of the kinks out and i don't really have a schedule for uploading chapters, but i'm gonna try to do it as much as possible, and more characters will show up as this progresses.


End file.
